Simple, It's Complicated
by GothGirl69
Summary: One, Two and Three don't know much - all they know is they're alive when they shouldn't be. Moments after their 'deaths' each one woke up in another life - a human one, with no memories of who they had once been. But as they unravel the mystery and remember who they are, things can only be described, simply, in one way: Complicated.
1. Prologue

**Prologue – A Confusing Beginning**

Hello there. If you are reading this, I'm dead but not, if you understand what I mean.

**They don't get what you mean, One.**

Oh shut up, Two, it sounded cool OK!

**No it didn't it sounded like the opening to a really cheesy movie!**

_For goodness sake, will you two give it a rest for one moment, please? You've both wrecked the beginning now anyway..._

Oh, erm, sorry Three, I forgot you were there for a sec...

**You like Three, you like Three! **

_Sigh... Sisters._

Hey, the fact that we're sisters has nothing to do with this!

_You know, I think we've really confused the people reading this now._

**Whatever, let's start again...**

-A/N-

Just in case anyone was wondering:

Normal: One

**Bold: Two**

_Italics: Three_

I have no idea how this came about, I came up with an idea, started writing, and... this happened. Hope you enjoyed! I'll try to update soon.

_-_A/N-


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

It was five in the evening, and a most peculiar meeting was taking place in what appeared to be an ordinary house, and that is what it was. The two people sitting at a table drinking coffee, however, a brown haired man and a blonde woman, were far from the usual and ordinary. The man was speaking, and when he was finished, there was a small silence, eventually broken by the woman.

"So, what you're saying, is that if at least one of them is alive, they will all be alive?"

"In a way, I suppose. If the Mogadorians succeed in tracking them all down and killing them – and we must hope that doesn't happen – then they will all die. But if the Mogs only succeed in finding a small number of them, the Garde will appear to be dead. But..." The man trailed off.

"But?" The woman asked, more than a little irritated.. She had no time for her work partner's silly, time wasting games. "But, only their _body_ will be dead. Their minds can live on!" The woman stared blankly at the man. "How exactly is that possible?" The man sighed and rubbed his temples, before taking a sip of his lukewarm coffee. "That, Freda is where we come in. Before they left, the pilot... he gave me this." He gestured towards a large metal box. "Take a peek."

Freda hesitated, she'd been wondering why the box was so important, before she twisted the plastic lock on top of the metal lid and lifted it off, revealing what was contained inside. Recoiling in shock, her elbow knocked her coffee off the table where it landed with a thunk on the carpet below. She made no move to pick it up. "Malcolm, are those what I think they are?" Malcolm avoided her eye. "Yes, they are Freda. They're human embryos. There are ten in total."

"You could have at least warned me what was in there!" Freda snapped. "Well, would you have looked in if I'd told you?" Malcolm replied.

"Yes!"

"Sorry... look, we're supposed to grow them. We can do that in the base at my house. There's more than enough... technology, to do, erm, it, there." Malcolm shifted uncomfortably. Freda shook her head. "But I still don't understand, how are their minds transferred?"Malcolm shrugged. "The pilot didn't tell me that much. Just that the embryo's had some sort of significance. All I know is that we have to grow them and if any of the Garde die, they'll be absorbed into the bodies."

Freda sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder how we ended up like this. I wonder, all the time, about what would have happened if we hadn't be there that night. What if we hadn't been asked to hold such a responsibility? What if we were just ordinary people?"

Malcolm smiled solemnly. "Well, Freda, the world would be a lot less safe a place." Freda didn't return the smile. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "Malcolm, what if they all die? What if the Mogadorians win?"

"Hope, Freda, there is always hope." Malcolm's response was short, but the meaning it held was deep. "Anyway, I best be off, I told Claire I'd be back before eleven." Freda nodded. "Same time next week?" Malcolm nodded, and with that he gathered his equipment and they went their separate ways once more.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update! Thanks to those who reviewed! :)**


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